Life on Mars

Sam Tyler:
[credits introduction] My name is Sam Tyler. I had an accident, and I woke up in 1973. Am I mad, in a coma, or back in time? Whatever's happened, it's like I've landed on a different planet. Now, maybe if I can work out the reason, I can get home.

Gene:
[to a handful of kids, staring at his car] Anything happens to this motor, I'll come 'round your houses and stamp on all your toys. Got it? Good kids.

Gene:
They reckon you've got concussion - but personally, I couldn't give a tart's furry cup if half your brains are falling out. Don't *ever* waltz into my kingdom playing king of the jungle.

Sam Tyler:
Who the hell are you?

Gene:
I'm Gene Hunt. Your DCI. And it's 1973. Nearly dinner time. I'm 'aving hoops.

Sam Tyler:
I need a drink.

Gene:
That's the first sensible thing you've said since you got here.

Chris Skelton:
Someone needs to take a look at you boss, you're as white as a ginger bird's arse!

[to a suspect about a diary entry]

Sam Tyler:
From the diary, quote: "I killed her. She's been killed. I'm a killer, an ace killer." That particular entry is not awash with ambiguity.

Sam Tyler:
I need you to connect me to a Virgin number. A Virgin mobile...

Operator:
Don't you start that sexy business with me, young man, I can trace this call.

[Annie complies with Sam's request to hit him by punching him in the kidneys]

Sam Tyler:
Ow! Sh*t!

WPC Annie Cartwright:
I'm sorry, sir.

Gene:
Aye aye, good girl, prostate probe and no jelly!

Gene:
Right, we pulled a bird in, Dora Keane, she was the last person to see the victim alive.

Sam Tyler:
Is she a suspect?

Gene:
Nope, just a pain in the arse.

Sam Tyler:
Okay, alright, brief me in full. What do I need to know?

Gene:
She's a pain in the arse.

Sam Tyler:
What, so you've handed her into lost property?

Chris Skelton:
Well, we could use the canteen, but she's a right mouthy bird, this one.

Sam Tyler:
Hang on, you're going to do the interview in there?

Gene:
Thick walls.

Gene:
I may be the sheriff, but I'm a deputy to the law.

Sam Tyler:
Now the victim wasn't gagged. Why didn't he gag her, Annie?

WPC Annie Cartwright:
Because he needed to, er, he needed to see her mouth, her lips. We have to see the things that we value.

Sam Tyler:
Now put yourselves in the mind of this man. You're lonely. Every night you dream of this girl, and she's got big eyes and red ruby lips. So you go out and you find that girl, and you bring her home. But you don't gag her, 'cause you want to see those ruby lips, but you just can't bring yourself to kiss 'em.

WPC Annie Cartwright:
You'd get embarrassed, angry, you'd start to blame the girl. It's her fault. She's taunting him by just being there.

Sam Tyler:
And then one day you just snap. Strangle her, using bootlace, and the cycle starts all over again with a different girl. And this time, you're positive that you're going to be brave enough to kiss her.

WPC Annie Cartwright:
Only you won't be.

Sam Tyler:
Large whiskey, please.

Nelson:
[Speaking in a Jamaican accent] Drink ain't gonna fix things. What am I saying? I run a pub. Of course it will fix things!

Sam Tyler:
I'm lost, Nelson, I'm really lost.

Nelson:
[Speaking in an east London accent] You ain't lost, pal. You're where you are, and you have to make the best of it. It's all you can do.

[Sam looks surprised]

Nelson:
Keep to yourself, eh? Folks just seem happier with the other Nelson.

Nelson:
What can I get you, man, raise your spirits?

Sam Tyler:
Diet Coke, please.

[blank look on the landlord's face]

Sam Tyler:
Just kidding, a pint of bitter.

Sam Tyler:
When was the last time you saw Suzi?

Dora Keens:
In me dreams.

Sam Tyler:
How did she seem that night, did she, did she... mention... meeting anyone?

Dora Keens:
She was horny.

Sam Tyler:
Did she get into an argument with a... stranger?

Dora Keens:
I know the answer... It's blowin' in the wind. [laughs]

[Gene violently pushes a table aside]

Gene Hunt:
I'm done with this game. Let's play another. Let's play, eh, hopscotch or pin the tail on a donkey, you pick, Dora.

Dora Keens:
I want a lawyer.

Gene Hunt:
I wanna hump Britt Ekland. What are we gonna do?

Sam Tyler:
I had an accident and I woke up 33 years in the past. Now, that either makes me... a time-traveller or... a lunatic, or I'm lying in a hospital bed in 2006 and none of this is real.

WPC Annie Cartwright:
We all feel like jumping sometimes, Sam. Only we don't. Me and you, because we're not cowards.

[last lines]

Sam Tyler:
What should I do, Annie?

WPC Annie Cartwright:
Stay.

[Sam and Gene going door to door]

Sam Tyler:
We're looking for this woman, Dora Keynes. Approximately five foot two, curly brown hair, hazel eyes, fake topaz necklace.

[At the next door, Gene snatches the photo from Sam before he can start]

Gene Hunt:
We're looking for a short skinny bird, wears a big coat, lots of gob.

Sam Tyler:
Which part of my subconscious do you hail from?

Gene Hunt:
Anything happens to this motor, I'll come around your houses and stamp on all your toys. Got it? Good kids.

Sam Tyler:
I need a drink.

Gene Hunt:
That's the first sensible thing you've said since you got here.

Gene Hunt:
Hey reckon you've got concussion - but personally, I couldn't give a tart's furry cup if half your brains are falling out. Don't ever waltz into my kingdom playing king of the jungle.

Sam Tyler:
Who the hell are you?

Gene Hunt:
I'm Gene Hunt. Your DCI. And it's 1973. Nearly dinner time. I'm 'avin hoops

Sam Tyler:
I don't know who the hell you lot think you are, but *this* is my office. Here. This is a door right here. And my *desk*... Where's my desk? Where's my DESK! Chair! PC Terminal!

Ray Carling:
Who? You want a constable up here?

[to Phyllis Dobbs, custody sergeant, talking about a witness that he's just brought in]

Sam Tyler:
He's a key witness. So could you treat him like a person, Phyllis. D'you remember "people"? You used to be one!

Sam Tyler:
What are you smirking at, Mona Lisa?

Test Card Girl:
I'm sorry you're lonely, Sam. [Sam screams] Are you really lonely here?

Sam Tyler:
No no no no no no no, I'm not listening!

Test Card Girl:
Don't you think you could be lonely out there, In the white room that's too warm?

Sam Tyler:
Stop it!

Test Card Girl:
Life goes on, but does it really go on for the sleeping man?

Sam Tyler:
I'm not sleeping, I'm here!

Test Card Girl:
And isn't it better here, where you can be busy?

Sam Tyler:
Look, just... get out!

Test Card Girl:
You don't like me and my clown, I can see I make you frown. When on earth will all this end? I'm you're friend, you're only friend.

Sam Tyler:
Get out!

Sam Tyler:
Poeple are always in danger, Gov. One minute you're going about your business, the next, BANG! You're taken out by a speeding car.

Gene:
Well I'm taking that speeding car off the road. For good!

Sam Tyler:
Kim Trent, I'm arresting you in suspicion of armed robbery. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your def... No, that's not it, is it? What is it? ahh... You have the right to remain silent...

Gene:
You're nicked!

Gene:
Oi! Gary Cooper nearly came down then! If you want to kick the ball about, do it in the corridor!

Sam Tyler:
Give me a Scotch. Double, massive... half a bottle.

Sam Tyler:
A black car, yeah?

Leonard:
Ford... Granada.

Sam Tyler:
Registration?

Leonard:
E... I don't know.

DCI Gene Hunt:
Sorry, was that, like, you saying the letter "E", and you don't know the rest or was that, like, you saying "EEE, I Dunno"

[Gene is looking at a poster for The Good, The Bad And The Ugly]

Sam Tyler:
Which one are you?

DCI Gene Hunt:
All three.

Sam Tyler:
This place is like Guantanamo Bay.

DCI Gene Hunt:
Keep off, it's nothing like Spain.

Sam Tyler:
In "Hyde", we don't traditionally keep acid and knocked-off bling in our offices just so we could get home early.

DCI Gene Hunt:
There's no badge down there, Sammy-boy. Mind you, does tickle open a few doors, eh? Come on!

Sam Tyler:
You were supposed to be watching them.

Ray Carling:
Oh. It's a fair cop.

Sam Tyler:
[to Gene] Trent's got Leonard. And Annie's there. On her own.

Sam Tyler:
Are you alright?

Annie Cartwright:
Battery's out on me radio.

Phyllis Dobbs:
She shouldn't be there on her own.

Sam Tyler:
No. She shouldn't.

Kim Trent:
Bet you wished you'd left us in that cell now?

Sam Tyler:
No.

Sam Tyler:
You didn't have to do that.

Leonard:
You said you'd protect us. And you did. You all did.

Gene:
Drop your weapons! You are surrounded by armed bastards!

DS Chris Skelton:
Bingo! I got one. Martin Ellis, lorry driver. Waiting for a fabrics pick-up at 2:30 this morning. Spotted a thickset man running out of the loom hall.

Sam Tyler:
Good, can I see it?

[Chris shows Sam a black and white picture with a head which looks like a butternut squash with ears]

Sam Tyler:
Chris, have you ever seen anybody that looks like that?

DS Chris Skelton:
It's the best we could do.

Sam Tyler:
It's a doddle, then. We're looking for someone with hamster's cheeks, a nose like Audrey Hepburn and two foot of forehead.

Ted Bannister:
You're not on your own. Nobody is! Not unless you want to be.

Gene Hunt:
[to another police officer examining blood on the floor] Oi! Hairy Mary, shift yourself, you're in the way.

Sam Tyler:
Let him do his job.

Gene Hunt:
Chief culprit is Ted Bannister. I want him in custody by teatime.

Sam Tyler:
What, because he spoke first?

Gene Hunt:
'Cos he's guilty as sin, and he's a commie bastard.

Sam Tyler:
Sorry, that's bollocks. Total rubbish.

Gene Hunt:
You're just itching to get your blood-spillage book out, aren't ya!

Sam Tyler:
You're making him prime suspect based on what, a hunch?

Gene Hunt:
Is my name 'Coco'?

Sam Tyler:
What?

Gene Hunt:
Why are you trying to make me look like a clown? Litton's gonna have a field day when he finds out you left four untraceable shooters out there.

Sam Tyler:
This isn't about Litton. And don't blame me for this. You dumped it on me!

Gene Hunt:
I thought you said you could multi... storey... task... Whatever!

Gene Hunt:
[to Ted Bannister] Say goodnight, Gracie, and sit down. I said sit down!

Ted Bannister:
Look. You've gotta open the mill. We can't afford to lose this order.

Gene Hunt:
The mill stays shut until our inquiry is over.

Ted Bannister:
[shouting] For god's sakes!

Gene Hunt:
[shouting] SIT DOWN, OR I'LL SIT YOU DOWN! NOW!

Gene Hunt:
[to Sam about the tin of Party Seven] Oi, Romeo. Are we gonna open this bog water or what?

Gene Hunt:
What is your problem, Sam?

Sam Tyler:
My problem would rock your world.

Phyllis Dobbs:
[on the radio] 870? 870! 870, come in, will you!

Sam Tyler:
Phyllis, is that you?

Phyllis Dobbs:
No, it's Jane Fonda on the hunt for men!

Sam Tyler:
Anyone can run around like an 'eadless chicken, but nothing beats the satisfaction of a thorough investigative process!

Gene Hunt:
No one can touch the Gene Genie.

Sam Tyler:
[to Litton] If I were you, I'd swallow it down. We had a result. One nil.

[talking about Gene's wager as to whether Ted Bannister is the real killer]

Sam Tyler:
If you think I'm going to reduce a murder investigation to the level of a... a playground bet...

Gene:
Cowardy cowardy custard. Can't cut the mustard.

Derek Bannister:
[to Gene while holding Sam at gunpoint] Yeah, but I bet you can't shoot me before I shoot him.

Sam Tyler:
For God's sake, don't throw him down a wager!

DCI Litton:
You knew those shooters were the real deal.

Gene:
Bloody hell. You really *are* a detective.

Gene:
Is that Blue Stratos?

DCI Litton:
Paco Rabanne.

Sam Tyler:
The time, Chris?

DS Chris Skelton:
Four-ish.

Sam Tyler:
Precise time.

DS Chris Skelton:
Just after four. Er, five, ten past.

Sam Tyler:
Four-oh-seven. [Sam looking his watch finally]

DS Chris Skelton:
Closer to ten past.

Sam Tyler:
Thank you , DC Skelton.

[Tyler and Hunt have forced a henchman to strip to his underwear in a cold store, to encourage him to answer their questions]

Gene Hunt:
My friend is going to ask you some questions. Personally, I hope you don't answer them, because I want you to die in here and end up inside a pork pie.

Gene Hunt:
You think you know everything, don't you?

Sam Tyler:
I know the stench of rotten apples.

Gene Hunt:
Yeah? And I know your slag is lying through her teeth, and do you wanna know why?

Sam Tyler:
Yeah, why?

Gene Hunt:
Because Stephen Warren is a bum bandit. D'you understand? A poof. A fairy. A queer. A queen. Fudge packer. Uphill gardener. Fruit picking sodomite.

Sam Tyler:
He's gay?

Gene Hunt:
As a bloody Christmas tree! Mind you, he is a little touchy on the subject, being a twisted Catholic with an elderly mother and all, so I wouldn't go mentioning it to him... You challenged his authority so he stitched you up like a kipper. Pretty girl appealed to your vanity as the only decent sheriff in Dodge City. Slipped you a Mickey, tied you up and bounced on your ding-a-ling.

Sam Tyler:
Why?

Gene Hunt:
I suspect the answer will lie in the post. Photos, you idiot.

Gene Hunt:
I'm not a Catholic meself, Mr Warren, but isn't there something about thou shalt not suck off rent boys?

Stephen Warren:
How dare you come in here?

Gene Hunt:
You could've said that to the boy!

Gene Hunt:
[the Sweet is playing loudly in a club] Do you like this music?

Sam Tyler:
Yeah, I do, don't you?

Gene Hunt:
It's just a lot a noise, really. Me and the wife like, eh, Roger Whitaker. Well, lot more her than me. D'ya know him?

Sam Tyler:
Not intimately.

Gene Hunt:
Keep it to yourself. We all have our dirty little secrets.

Sam Tyler:
Indeed we do.

Gene:
It's a horrible concept, ain't it? Huge psychotic hippies fencing stolen tellies.

Sam Tyler:
This has nothing to do with me.

Gene:
Oh, stop being such a girl. Think of it as a tax on bad people.

Nelson:
What is that, mon brave?

Gene:
It's a television.

Nelson:
In a pub?

Gene:
Yeah, ask the boy wonder here.

Sam Tyler:
It's nothing to do with me.

Gene:
Tell him what you told me.

Sam Tyler:
I can make some brackets, I can put it on the wall, and watch the sports.

Nelson:
In a pub?

Gene Hunt:
Don't talk to me! Trousers!

Gene Hunt:
A month later I took my first back hander.

Sam Tyler:
How did it make you feel?

Gene Hunt:
Like sh*t.

Sam Tyler:
How do you feel now?

Gene Hunt:
I try not to think about it. I do the best that I can, to take care of my men and the people in my city.

Sam Tyler:
But when you do think about it, how does it make you feel?

Gene Hunt:
Like there's an animal eating away at me insides.

Sam Tyler:
Fancy doing something about it?

Gene Hunt:
Thought you'd never ask.

Gene Hunt:
How did you know Red Rum was gonna win the national?

Sam Tyler:
Just a hunch.

Gene Hunt:
No inside information? No tip off from someone in the racing fraternity?

Sam Tyler:
I wouldn't do that would I?

Gene Hunt:
I didn't think you'd lock a murder suspect in a giant fridge.

Sam Tyler:
He wouldn't answer my question.

Sam Tyler:
[after unwittingly taking a bribe] I've always despised bent cops.

Sam Tyler:
If it was to do with football, he'd have serious injuries.

Gene:
He's dead. That's quite serious.

Ray Carling:
I'm arresting you for the theft of a motor vehicle, resisting arrest... and driving like a div.

Gene:
There will never be a woman prime minister as long as I have a hole in my arse.

Sam Tyler:
I used to go to football with my dad. United and City fans used to walk to the match together. Our next door neighbour, he had a City flag up in his window. Kids used to play together in the street - red and blue. But then people like you came along and you took it away from us.

Pete Bond:
A good punch up's all part of the game. It's about pride. Pride in your team. Being the best.

Sam Tyler:
No it isn't. This is how it starts and then it escalates. It gets on the telly and in the press and then other fans from other clubs start trying to out do each other. And then it becomes about hate and then it's nothing to do with football any more. It's about gangs and scumbags like you roaming the country seeing who can cause the most trouble. And then we overreact, and we have to put up perimeter fences and we treat the fans like animals. Forty, fifty thousand people herded into pens. And then how long before something happens, eh? How long before something terrible happens and we are dragging bodies out?

Gene:
Oi! Referee! Has anyone ever told you you need glasses, you dozy git? Next time, I run you over!

Ray Carling:
I think it was a heart attack.

Gene:
Then it must've exploded out of his arse, there's blood all down his back.

Test Card Girl:
Why did you promise him, Sam? Daddies always let you down, don't they?

Gene:
Juries love all that. Makes 'em feel like Columbo.

Sam Tyler:
I want to talk to his family, his friends, and his workmates. I want to find out if there was another motive.

Gene:
You do that, Sherlock, and if that doesn't work, try the butler.

Sam Tyler:
A woman, at number 32, 50 yards from the murder scene, heard a man's voice. She thinks he was shouting "Carl".

Gene:
So?

Sam Tyler:
What if it wasn't Carl? What if it was Col?

Gene:
What if me uncle had tits, would he be me auntie?

Gene:
[pours something into a pint] Time to liven things up a bit. It's hard to keep your stories straight when you're pissed, you ask my missus.

Sam Tyler:
I'm not sure that's ethical.

Gene:
It's not, it's vodka.

Gene:
Doesn't take much working out, even for you lot. Right, let's start by bringing in all known football hooligans, get their names and addresses, find out where they were last night.

[Ray sneezes loudly]

Gene:
Get Ray to breathe on 'em.

Gene:
So, what do you want?

Sam Tyler:
Olive oil would be nice, bit of coriander... [Gene looks puzzled] It's a herb.

Gene:
Well, this is Trafford Park. You've got more chance of finding an ostrich with a plum up its arse.

Pete Bond:
What's this?

Sam Tyler:
It's chicken in a basket.

Man:
Where's me plate?

Sam Tyler:
You don't need a plate. It's in a basket.

Gene:
Word.

[He takes Sam further down the bar]

Gene:
Chicken... in a basket?

Sam Tyler:
You told me to use my initiative.

Gene:
Right, let's see how good you really are.

[hands him a piece of paper]

Gene:
Two oxtail soups.

[Sam looks at the paper, then takes Gene's tea-towel and wipes the food list off the board before throwing the towel at him]

Sam Tyler:
Food's off.

[as Sam and Gene are watching football fans walking past, they notice DS Ray Carling is among them]

Sam Tyler:
Hang on, I thought he had flu.

Gene:
Sergeant!

[Ray starts running]

Gene:
Come back here, you skiving little git!

[Gene and Sam need to get a pub landlord out of the way so that they can go undercover]

Gene:
Ray! Go and arrest the landlord of the Trafford Arms

Ray Carling:
What for?

Gene:
Think of something on the way.

[later]

Gene:
In a bizarre twist of fate the landlord was arrested this afternoon... on suspicion of Cattle Rustling.

[Ray takes a bow and receives a round of applause]

Sam Tyler:
I thought you were pissed.

Gene:
Yeah, well think again. Coz I could drink every one of those toe rags under the table and still stop off for a pint on me way home. Are we done here?

Sam Tyler:
Yeah.

Gene:
Good. Coz if I want a bollocking for drinking too much, I'll call the wife thank you very much.

Gene:
[in explanation after hitting a man] He didn't pay his tab.

Gene:
[in the back of the van, to other officers] Right, tool up. [all bring out bats, hammers etc except Sam] Have you got anything? Good luck then.

Gene Hunt:
I reckon we can take him, I'll jump on him, you take his gun and Cartwright can jump up and down on his knackers.

Sam Tyler:
We need an inner cordon as well as this one. Think of it as two circles, one inside the other. The area in the centre is out of limits to everybody but us.

Gene Hunt:
Fair enough.

Sam Tyler:
Call it the donut.

Gene Hunt:
Jam or custard?

Sam Tyler:
Now you're just being silly.

Gene Hunt:
I'm not the one calling it a donut

Sam Tyler:
He's got natural camouflage. He can see out; we can't see in.

Hugo Barton:
[runs towards the team] Excuse me!

Sam Tyler:
Excuse me sir, can you go back behind the cordon, please.

Hugo Barton:
Hugo Barton. I'm a reporter from the Gazette.

Gene Hunt:
Oh, terrific.

Gene Hunt:
[shouts at the hostage taker] Oi! We've got another one for you!

Sam Tyler:
Gov.

Gene Hunt:
He walked in about 40 minutes ago; he was just ahead of me. He pulled a gun; he means business.

Gene Hunt:
Y' know, I'd listen to the snot in my hankie before I'd listen to you.

Sam Tyler:
I'M ALIVE!

Gene Hunt:
Oh, come on Reg, you're a criminal. You do what I do, I'm a copper, I do what I do. Cats eat kippers, dogs eat bones.

Sam Tyler:
[Office party aftermath. Chris is lying on the floor, asleep] Chris.

Chris Skelton:
Five more minutes, dad.

Sam Tyler:
And they call us the thin blue line.

Sam Tyler:
This is the crisis centre.

Gene Hunt:
I think, if it's the centre of the crisis you're looking for, it's out there.

Chris Skelton:
[Annie appears in a nurse uniform] Blimey, I've dreamt about this.

Gene Hunt:
[handing Annie a gun] Don't worry, love, just like riding a bike.

Sam Tyler:
Guv, he's gonna frisk her.

Gene Hunt:
You know, something tells me Reg isn't around lots birds. We stuff this down her knickers, it's the one place he won't have the nerve to look.

Chris Skelton:
I'll do it.

Sam Tyler:
Okay, we cut them. We cut him off. I want to keep him contained. He'll be isolated. His only way of speaking to the outside world will be through...

Gene Hunt:
Us.

Sam Tyler:
Me. I'm the negotiator.

Gene Hunt:
I'll make you a hat.

Gene Hunt:
That is a single malt! What kind of a monster are you?

Gene Hunt:
Always trust the Gene Genie!

Gene Hunt:
Now is not the time to have a one night stand with your conscience.

Gene Hunt:
You so much as belch out of line, and I'll have your scrotum on a barbed wire plate.

Nelson:
I set the rules here.

Billy Kemble:
[just caught by DCI Hunt] Oh, bollocks.

Gene Hunt:
My thoughts exactly.

Gene Hunt:
[to Sam] You're never happy unless you're making my life complicated, are ya?

Sam Tyler:
If we can't police ourselves, how are the public supposed to trust us?

Gene Hunt:
The public don't give a damn what we do, as long as we get results.

Sam Tyler:
You're wrong.

Sam Tyler:
[yelling] GET ME OUT OF HERE!

Gene Hunt:
I don't know... [pause]... who the biggest d*ckhead is round here.

Gene Hunt:
[to Ray Carling] You, for what happened...

Gene Hunt:
[to Sam] You, for your holier than thou act...

Gene Hunt:
...or me, for having any of you on my team.

Billy Kemble:
[flashing DI Tyler] How's that for a truncheon?

Albert Collins:
I'm not sharing with no one.

Gene Hunt:
What is that, a double negative? Don't they teach you anything in nutter school these days?

Sam Tyler:
Be gentle, will you?

Gene Hunt:
I'm not a bleeding luddite. [Andrea opens the door] Hiya love. DCI Hunt. How're you feeling? Just come to talk to you about how your brother copped it.

Sam Tyler:
Did you know that Billy took cocaine?

Andrea Kemble:
He doesn't. He'd never take drugs.

Gene Hunt:
Well, with respect, you probably thought he kept his cock in his keks and all.

Andrea Kemble:
He your boss? [Sam nods] Well, what would I get for smacking him one?

Sam Tyler:
Round of applause from half our station.

[Sam and Gene are going through everyone's statements in the canteen]

Gene Hunt:
What did he do when you looked in?

Ray Carling:
Flicked me the Vs.

Gene Hunt:
[writing] "Brandished his arms in an aggressive and violent manner".

[jump cut to Chris]

Gene Hunt:
How many times did you check on him?

Chris Skelton:
Once. Maybe twice.

Gene Hunt:
Your memory's hardly your best quality, is it Chris? Let's round it up to four.

[jump cut to Phyllis]

Phyllis Dobbs:
I said, he slid the tray along the floor at her.

Gene Hunt:
[writing] "Mr Kemble angrily threw food in the face of WPC Annie Cartwright."

Gene:
I think you have forgotten who you are talking to.

Sam Tyler:
An overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, borderline-alcoholic homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding.

Gene:
You make that sound like a *bad* thing!

Ruth Tyler:
Inspector... Bolan?

Sam Tyler:
Tyler. We met in connection with a burglary. Uh... I thought it might confuse you if I gave you my real name, so I... adopted a professional alias.

Gene Hunt:
It's not a wind-up love, he really thinks like this.

Gene Hunt:
The Morton brothers are funding and distributing hardcore porno.

Sam Tyler:
Hardcore? I've seen worse on Channel Four.

[last lines]

Ray Carling:
So, what do you want to do now, Guv?

Gene:
[thinks for a moment] Pub!

Ray Carling:
[smirks] Pub.

Chris Skelton:
[grins] Pub.

[Sam looks at the other three men in turn]

Sam Tyler:
[slowly smiles] Pub.

[all get in car and drive off]

Gene Hunt:
I think you've forgotten who you're talking to.

Sam Tyler:
An overweight, over the hill, nicotine-stained, borderline alcoholic, homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding.

Gene Hunt:
You make that sound like a bad thing.

Gene Hunt:
Good work, Raymondo. I'm pumping you back up to D.S. Though this time make it stand for "Detective Sergeant" and not "Dog Sh*t".

Gene Hunt:
Are you on strike? Common, hands off your ding-a-ling, we've had another shout.

Sam Tyler:
Well seeing as you've just broke my door down, I take it, it's big.

Gene Hunt:
As Shelley Winters' arse.

Gene Hunt:
Black suits you, Eddows. Do you want an eye in the same colour.

Chris Skelton:
Boss? Bloody hell, you look like something out of the Addam's Family.

Sam Tyler:
Up all night.

Chris Skelton:
Oh aye. What was her name?

Sam Tyler:
Migraine.

Chris Skelton:
German bird?

[Hunt is questioning a suspect]

Gene Hunt:
Black suits you, Eddows. D'you want an eye in the same colour?

Andy Eddows:
I was at my father's funeral.

Gene Hunt:
Well it could be yours next, pal!

Sam Tyler:
Do you keep a journalist chained in your basement for random beatings, guv?

Gene Hunt:
Don't have a basement.

Harry Woolf:
You're a lucky man, Tyler. [nodding towards Gene] You've got the best here.

Sam Tyler:
I weep with happiness every morning, sir.

Sam Tyler:
Let's get this party started.

CID members:
[seeing plods with rubber gloves searching the crime scene] [singing] Now hands that do dishes can feel soft as your face with mild green Fairy Liquid...

Gene:
[to reporters in the way of his Ford Cortina] Move, ya bastards!

Annie Cartwright:
A bit Nancy Drew, I know.

Gene Hunt:
Nancy Drew couldn't hold a candle.

Tony Crane:
Sam Tyler... is from the future.

Eve Olawi:
He's not perfect. No-one is.

Sam Tyler:
Go and make yourself a great life.

[DC Glen Fletcher, a black officer, has just joined the team, after DC Annie Cartwright joined a few weeks ago]

Ray Carling:
[to everyone] First women, now a coloured. What going to be next, dwarves?

Ray Carling:
[to Fletcher, refusing to shake his hand] You here to do the *spade* work?

[Gene Hunt thinks that Sam Tyler is being overcautious]

Gene Hunt:
You know, if I was as worried as you, I'd never fart for fear of shitting myself.

Chris Skelton:
Dickie's famous for getting caught in Alicante.

Ray Carling:
Flagrante, Chris, in flagrante.

Annie Cartwright:
[holding her gun] I haven't received any firearms training. That's not right.

Gene Hunt:
You see this is why birds and CID don't mix. You give a bloke a gun it's a dream come true, you give a girl one she moans it doesn't go with her dress.

Sam Tyler:
How does your missus put up with you?

Gene Hunt:
Must be my legendary prowess as a lover.

Sam Tyler:
There's been an allegation from a prisoner about one of our officers.

Gene Hunt:
Don't tell me. Phyllis is demanding slap and tickle for a night in the cells.

Sam Tyler:
Gene... I'm dying...

Gene:
Rubbish, you're like that every Sunday morning!

Gene Hunt:
If a villain farts in this city, our snout should be able to find the arse responsible.

[a car bomb has exploded, injuring Ray Carling. Gene believes that it is the work of the IRA, but Sam, with his knowledge from the future, is adamant that the IRA doesn't use that type of explosive at this time]

Gene Hunt:
[to Sam] All right, sulky bollocks! If it wasn't the IRA or any other terrorist group, who blew up that car, then? The WI?

Gene Hunt:
How do you think I spend my time here, Tyler?

Sam Tyler:
Building a Death Star?

Gene Hunt:
[to Sam] All right then, sulky bollocks, if it wasn't the IRA or any other terrorist group, who blew up that car then? The WI?

Gene Hunt:
Right, Phyllis, from now on you stay behind the desk, only you to answer the phone.

Phyllis Dobbs:
What if I have to go to the ladies', guv?

Gene Hunt:
Cross your legs.

Sam Tyler:
He shouldn't be here. He's got PTSD.

Gene Hunt:
The man's a bloody hero and you're accusing him of having the clap?

Phyllis Dobbs:
Get back! Back! You lot don't calm down, I'll make you all strip, and you can stand there with your knackers out. I could do with a laugh!

Ray Carling:
Woman in her 20s.

Chris Skelton:
Dead.

Gene Hunt:
Well I didn't think she was sunbathing, did I?

Gene Hunt:
I want this man caught before he kills again. This is my city and it will be a safe place for my wife and my mum to walk around, is that understood?

Others:
Yes, guv.

Gene Hunt:
Right, find out who that dead woman was, find out who killed her. Do it now. [checks his watch] Hold on, hold on. Do it tomorrow morning first thing. Beer o'clock, gentlemen.

Sam Tyler:
Denise Williams was thrown out of that car by that man.

Gene Hunt:
So? Pushed a bird out of a car, doesn't make him a bad bloke. [Sam gives him a look] Oh, pull him in then, I'll dance the fandango on his head.

Gene Hunt:
I don't like this. Gene Hunt smashes doors down, he does not pick girly locks.

[Sam, Gene, Ray and Chris are covertly bugging a suspect's garage. Suddenly, a police siren can be heard outside]

Ray Carling:
The law! The law!

Gene Hunt:
Get down, you div!

[they all duck behind a car]

Sam Tyler:
[realising] *We are* the law, you bloody clowns!

Chris Skelton:
[farting sound] Sorry.

Gene Hunt:
What have you been eating? Pedigree Chum?

Sam Tyler:
You know, where I'm from...

Annie Cartwright:
Hyde?

Sam Tyler:
Yes, Hyde. People love me, you know. They don't want anything from me, they don't want to fight me, they just love me. If they're still there.

Annie Cartwright:
What is wrong with you today?

Sam Tyler:
Do you want an honest answer? I'm bloody sick of 1973.

Annie Cartwright:
Don't worry, it'll be 1974 soon.

Carol Twilling:
[holding up a record] Does everybody love Santana?

Sam Tyler:
Oh God.

[everybody turns and stares]

Sam Tyler:
[lame] God, I love Santana...

Sam Tyler:
The pathologist from the original murders, Stuart Baiter...

Gene Hunt:
Ah, Master Baiter. Remember him well.

Sam Tyler:
God is in the details.

Chris Skelton:
God is in church, smartypants. [Sam glares at him] I mean... boss.

Sam Tyler:
Oh, you're beating up the fixture and fittings. Nice.

Annie Cartwright:
We were hoping you could be the voice of reason...

Sam Tyler:
I came out of a musical box!

Annie Cartwright:
...a stabilising influence - ?

Sam Tyler:
And I'm seeing things.

Annie Cartwright:
Oh, you're always seeing things.

Gene Hunt:
You made it then. 'Bout bloody time.

Sam Tyler:
[grabs a surprised Gene by the shirt and slings him up against the wall] And as for you, I can just about handle you driving like a pissed up crackhead, and treating women like beanbags! But I'm gonna say this once, and once only, Gene. Stay out of Camberwick Green!

[looking at a body]

Chris Skelton:
I wonder what killed him?

Gene Hunt:
That'll be the bloody enormous hole in his chest where the bullet went in!

[looking at a body]

Annie Cartwright:
Boss? There's a viscous yellow liquid in his ear.

Gene Hunt:
No, that's a drip from my fried egg butty, love. Well done, Miss Marple. That's why we need women detectives.

Sam Tyler:
There's no history of drug dealing amongst the Gujerati Ugandan Asians.

Gene Hunt:
Blahdy blahdy history bloody blah! It doesn't take a degree in Applied Bollocks to know what's going on.

Sam Tyler:
Go on, then. Amaze me with your insubstantial guesswork.

Gene Hunt:
He's come over here, started dealing and Rocket or one of the other local drug boys has took offence and offed him.

Sam Tyler:
That's better that even *I* expected. Copper leaps to a conclusion then finds the evidence to fit.

Gene:
Now. Yesterday's shooting. The dealers are all so scared we're more likely to get Helen Keller to talk. The Paki in a coma's about as lively as Liberace's dick when he's looking at a naked woman, all in all this investigation's going at the speed of a spastic in a magnet factory.

Sam Tyler:
[Sam Tyler, aghast, drops the radio he is holding]

Gene:
What?

Sam Tyler:
Think you might have missed out the Jews.

Gene:
What?

Sam Tyler:
I think we need to explore whether this attempted murder was a hate crime.

Gene:
What as opposed to one of those I-really-really-like-you sort of murders?

[Sam wonders whether the National Front planted drugs on the victim to make it look like a drug-related crime]

Gene Hunt:
The NF are far too stupid for that. They could stick a shotgun up my arse and pull the trigger - they'd still miss!

[Toolbox Terry is questioning Rocket about drug dealers. His sidekick Big Bird is holding a large sack]

Toolbox Terry:
So Rocket, what's going on.

Rocket:
My business involves the sacred bond of trust. Geezer, I can't. I would rather have rabid ferrets munch on my testicles.

Toolbox Terry:
You always say that, don't you, Rocket.

[Toolbox Terry nods at Big Bird who begins to pull something out of the sack]

Rocket:
[gulping] What's in the sack?

[Big Bird reveals a ferret]

Big Bird:
Not rabid, boss, but they are *very* annoyed.

[Toolbox Terry pulls down Rocket's Y-fronts. Big Bird takes a look]

Big Bird:
Poor ferrets. Not going to be getting much of a lunch.

Sam Tyler:
Because I loved her!

Gene:
You great... soft... sissy... girlie... nancy... French... bender... Man United supporting POOF!

Gene:
You've got fingers in more pies than a leper on a cookery course.

Gene:
Look at her, she's as nervous as a very small nun at a penguin shoot.

Gene:
You said he was dead!

Ray Carling:
Well, he wasn't moving.

Gene:
Chris doesn't move, but he's not dead!

Sam Tyler:
Starsky and Hutch have a lot to answer for.

Sam Tyler:
I think she's telling the truth.

Gene:
I think she's as fake as a tranny's fanny.

Sam Tyler:
I still think we need to entertain the possibility that this could be a racial killing...

Gene:
Oh, well let's entertain it, let's take it out for a prawn cooktail, a steak and a bottle of Liebfraumilch, then let's kick it into the gutter where it belongs!

Gene:
Drugs, eh? What's the point. They make you forget, make you talk funny, make you see things that aren't there. My old grandma got all of that for free when she had a stroke.

[speaking to a White Supremacist after he claims himself superior]

Sam Tyler:
Superior? You're not superior to an amoeba with special needs.

[interviewing Layla at the station]

Layla:
About 8:30, straight after I left Sam's flat, he was still alive.

Gene:
Straight after you left Sam's flat?

Sam Tyler:
She needed protection.

Gene:
Well, I hope you used some!

Gene:
Listen, you're not the one who's going to have to knit himself a new arse after 25 years of aggressive male affection in prison showers. I'm coming with you!

[Sam startles Gene by waking screaming from a nightmare]

Sam Tyler:
I was just dreaming.

Gene:
What I call a dream involves Diana Dors and a bottle of chip oil!

Gene:
[on the phone to Sam] I appear to have killed a man.

Gene:
[after Sam woke up screaming] That's a guilty conscience.

Sam Tyler:
What is?

Gene:
The root of nightmares. Now as for me, I slept like a baby.

Sam Tyler:
Yeah, a twenty stone baby. Burps, snores, farts...

Gene:
I do *not* snore!

Sue:
Oh. It's you. It took two bottles of bleach and a can of Ajax to get your stink off this doorstep.

Gene:
My stink? You saw me here?

Sue:
Saw you? I had to step over your carcass. Now me, I would've just left you there but that's what friends are for.

Gene:
Friends?

Sue:
The young lad who came and poured you into the back of his van. It was him who needed help, he looked like he'd been in the wars with that bandaged hand.

Sam Tyler:
You can't go in there. You're public enemy n?1.

[Gene puts on big sunglasses]

Sam Tyler:
That's your idea of a disguise?

Gene:
I pass through crowds like the invisible man

[they get out of the car, Ray and Chris drive up]

Ray Carling:
Guv! It's Morgan. We've got to bring you in.

Sam Tyler:
Why are we running?

Gene:
'Coz they're chasing us.

Gene:
And another thing. I intend to drink the equivalent of the North Sea in whisky tonight so raid your piggy banks.

Gene:
[Tyler prepares to interview Hunt] Come on, then, Twinkle-Toes. Strut your stuff!

Gene:
I love you! [grabs hold of Sue, kisses her full on the lips]

Sue:
[splutters embarrassedly] You filthy swine!

Gene:
Ooh, yeah!

[last lines]

Sam Tyler:
It's procedure. You're not above the law, you know, guv.

Gene Hunt:
What are you on about, Tyler? I am the law.

Sam Tyler:
In your dreams.

Sam Tyler:
Tell me.

Annie Cartwright:
Tell you what, Sam?

Sam Tyler:
Tell me what I should do.

Annie Cartwright:
Stay. Here. Forever.

Sam Tyler:
All right, then. I will.

[they kiss]

Gene Hunt:
Tyler! Put that soppy plonk down and get in. Blag on in Archer Lane, shots fired, lovely. You two tarts get in, and you flash knickers.

Gene Hunt:
Shut up you noncey-arsed fairy boy.

Sam Tyler:
You shouldn't be driving with that leg.

Gene Hunt:
Well, I am.

Sam Tyler:
You were shot.

Gene Hunt:
And so will you be if you don't get in. Now, move it!

Sam Tyler:
I should drive you know.

Gene Hunt:
You drive like my aunt Mabel.

Officer 2:
Sam. Look at your hand.

Sam Tyler:
I can't feel it.

Annie Cartwright:
[angrily slaps Sam] Hurts, doesn't it. That's because its *real*!

Ray Carling:
I got shot because of you.

Sam Tyler:
I know. I am truly sorry.

Ray Carling:
Still... I met this bird. Medical bird.

Sam Tyler:
Called nurses.

Ray Carling:
Big tits and an arse like two cox's pippins in a bag.

Sam Tyler:
She sounds enigmatic.

Ray Carling:
No. She was from Barnsley.

Gene Hunt:
Now you're just showing off.

Sam Tyler:
I made a promise to someone I care very deeply about.

Ruth Tyler:
Then it'll be alright. You always keep your promises.

Sam Tyler:
[finishing his recording of events] DI Sam T... [long pause] DCI Sam Tyler, Greater Manchester Police.

Officer 1:
You wanted me to deliver something to Psych Evaluation Division?

Sam Tyler:
Yeah. It's this officer, she collects details... about trauma... it was helpful to talk about it actually.

Phyllis Dobbs:
I'm not just a sex goddess. I've got eyes in me head.

Nelson:
What will you have, mon brave?

Sam Tyler:
Scotch. A large one. Actually, make it a bottle.

Phyllis Dobbs:
Well, if you're buying boss, I'll have a port and lemon.

Sam Tyler:
You're gonna make a good copper Chris.

Chris Skelton:
Thanks. Fantastic. [pause] What do you mean *gonna* make?

Paramedic:
[on radio] It's no good. He's slipping away from us. Sam? Sam?

Sam Tyler:
God, I hate that channel

[changes radio station - to David Bowie's "Life on Mars"]

Sam Tyler:
That's better.